Psychology of a Kanshisha
by Miyu1
Summary: Everyday thoughts of an immortal child as she visits Tokyo.


Psychology of a Kanshisha  
By Miyu Ayumi   
http://miyu.nu  
Miyu@miyu.nu - Questions, Comments, etc.  
  
Author's Notes: This is brought-to-you by my BOREDOM. ^_^ Yay. Insomnia is neat. This is just a short little fic about Miyu's day-to-day thoughts. She can always go home to Larva...*smirk*  
  
  
Miyu sat down, elegantly crossing her thin legs. She scanned the room inquisitively;  
as much out of curiousity as out of caution. A girl behind her was playing around on  
her "J-Phone", and the Ko-Gal seated in front of her was teasing her tangerine-colored hair with her long, obviously fake rinestone-plated nails. Yes, this was Tokyo alright.   
Miyu had "enrolled" herself in a public school right outside of the Chiba-ken prefecture; as she and Larva were staying in a shinto shrine in Shinjuku. An odd place for a shrine, but it was convenient, and she would much rather stay there than in anywhere else in this crowded city.   
It was a time of rest for the Vampire Princess/Huntress and her Larva. There would always be hundreds of strays walking around the streets of this city every day, but Miyu was not interested at the moment. Afterall, she had eternity to get that job done, ne? It had been decades upon decades since Miyu had ventured out of Kyoto and it's surrounding areas, and the immortal child was curious to see the marvels of the evergrowing world around her. How many years had she been alive now? She could not count; but this city of non-stop business and action and lights relieved her for a moment in time. When staring at the blinking lighting on the giant billboards of roppongi ..time stopped and she could breathe.  
"Inoue Miyu?" The teacher interrupted her train of thought, taking attendance.  
"Hai." Miyu responded, reassuring her presence. She laughed inwardly at how many surnames she had gone by in the past. How many has it been? Who could be sure? The ageless youth had all but forgotten her given surname; but she would never use it. That was private to her - tucked deep within the same glass...or ice...that her parents were frozen in. Frozen in time ...the same as she.  
Miyu had decided to take the subway back to her resting place in Shinjuku. She loved the lights of the buildings, she loved the smell of the humans as the crowded together in the small little metal boxes. She loved how they could compartmentalize their minds and create solitude and a respectful attitude even in the atmosphere of being pushed nearly cheek-to-cheek with another human being. This was all very indulging, but she was also anxious to return. Larva would be there, and she was eager to be held tightly in his strong arms. She could always feel his presence. It was affirmitive of their unspoken love. Never would one be without the other, even when the were physically seperate ..but Miyu found herself addicted to him nonetheless.  
Most of her nomadic life had been spent in schools, blending in with the humans ..(no shit), and many of her observations of the way humans operate came from these excursions. At times she would almost find herself becomming an observer to the point of feeling like she was desperately trying to reach out and grasp on to her past - because she was certainly afraid that above many other things she had completely forgotten what it was like to be human once upon a time. But then Larva would assure her, even silently, that the fact that she showed any emotions at all reaffirmed that she was, to some degree, still lingering with a human beginning. Why was she so scared of forgetting? She had no real way to answer this - with the exception that perhaps if she lost her memories of what it was like to be a child ..a human child.. then she would also lose whatever she had left in her heart of her parents. Herself.   
"Tadaima." Miyu said gently, entering the tatami-matted main room of the shrine. Her seifuku immediately dissolved into her shiroi kimono and akai obi.  
"Okaeri.." Larva replied, in his usual comforting, yet cool voice, as he appeared to gather her small, lithe frame close to him. Their hearts always beat together in unison, intermingled with the same blood. Was comfort this warm for a human? 


End file.
